Thomas Edison
by Mir N
Summary: Pepper finds something from his childhood that upsets Tony, but in the end she makes it all better by doing something nice for him. Tony/Pepper friendship; well, maybe a bit more than that.


**Summary:** Pepper finds something that upsets Tony, but in the end she makes it all better by doing something nice for him (again).**  
Characters:** Tony, Pepper, Howard and Maria Stark**  
****Pairing:** Tony/Pepper friendship. Howard/Maria fighting**  
Genre:** A dash of cute and a sprinkle of sad**  
Notes:** Based on this image of RDJ: htt p: / i26. tinypic. com/34hig74.jpg (with no spaces in the url of course)

* * *

Tony wondered how long it would take Pepper to notice just how unabashedly he was staring at her ass.

"Is there something you require, sir?"

Not long, apparently.

Nevertheless, he continued to lean against the doorframe of the room, watching Pepper as she knelt on all fours in a rather filthy closet. Her dark normally-immaculate Chanel suit was smudged with dust and her hair was pulled back messily to keep it from falling into her face as she worked. She still had her back to him and appeared quite absorbed in what she was doing, posing the question as if he were little more than a minute distraction from the normal order of her day. Which, he supposed, he was, gathering just how little he generally participated in the actual organization and execution of her routine.

"I can feel you leering."

He wondered if she thought he was being a pig as usual and was simply used to it, although his so-called harassment of her was little more than a mechanism to distract from any real problems that he would rather avoid dealing with for the time being. He decided that in all likelihood Pepper knew this already and that it was possibly the only reason she had put up with it this long. Pepper probably knew many things.

At the moment, however, she was entirely absorbed in sorting out a closet full of dusty old ragtag boxes. The boxes, in turn, seemed to be stuffed haphazardly full of files from far more primitive times; certainly, before computers existed, judging from just how much paper Pepper was currently buried under.

"Do you remember where we keep the fireworks?" Tony asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants nonchalantly. He bounced on his heels for a moment, shifting back and forth as he stared intently at Pepper, who still had her back to him and showed no signs of giving him her undivided attention.

"With the paintball guns," she finally replied after a moment's thought.

"And where do we keep those?"

"Far away from you, sir."

Tony bit back a snort despite himself and feigned annoyance. "Oh come on, that was fun. You know it was."

"Getting an expensive pantsuit cleaned after the experience was certainly not my definition of fun."

"It's not my fault you wore a thousand-dollar outfit."

"It's not the pantsuit's fault that you and Happy snuck up on it during its lunch break." Pepper continued to pointedly sort whatever it was she was working on.

"So where do we keep the fireworks?"

"Which fireworks, sir?"

Tony rather loved it whenever Pepper was difficult with him.

"The ones with the paintball guns. You just said so."

"I said no such thing."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did -- hey, stop changing the subject by arguing with me."

"I'm not."

"Are too."

"Not."

"Are – hey."

Pepper finally looked up with a bit of a smirk in his direction.

"Cheap shots, Pepper. Cheap."

"Thank you, sir."

Tony glanced at the sea of half-opened boxes surrounding his assistant and ventured further into the room. He toed some of the papers littered on the ground, frowning at the uncharacteristic mess surrounding the traditionally-immaculate Pepper. She swatted at his feet with a sheaf of papers, shooing him off to the side. "You should put some socks on," she remarked absently as she tried to make sense of the mess she was sorting.

"What's all this?" he asked settling down beside her on the ground.

"Spring cleaning project," Pepper announced. "I hate a mess, and all of this is the colossal definition of. Really, sir, I don't know how you can live with a clutter like this." She frowned and placed some of the papers she was holding into one of the many piles littered around her.

Tony looked up and gave the room a long and rather blank stare. "Can't say I've ever been in here before," he remarked finally. "Where are we again?"

"In your house, sir," Pepper deadpanned.

Tony made a face at her.

"It's slightly ridiculous that you don't know your way around your own home," she added. "You spend all of your time either in the workroom or…the workroom. This place might be a little too big for you."

"Ah, but it would never do for Tony Stark to live in anything less than a thirty-five room mansion," he countered. "What would Jim Cramer say?"

Pepper wrinkled her nose to delicately indicate precisely what she felt for the _Mad Money_ host. "That man is chronically two index points short of a conniption. I wouldn't pay any attention to him, sir."

"Quite right. So is there any chance there might be fireworks in here?" He stuck his head into the closet, giving the ancient boxes a cursory look. Reaching forward, he took down the nearest box and opened it. Pepper made a distressed noise behind him; Tony knew she hated it whenever he interfered in her work and he also knew that he really enjoyed getting a rise out of Pepper as often as he could for his own set of cheap shots.

Of course, his trusty assistant was not going to have any of it. "If you want to help, then take that box and organize everything in it by date, please. It looks like most of these are files from the sixties so just do it by year; '69, '68, '67, et cetera," she finished, pointing to each pile she had already started.

Although technically his assistant was not supposed to order him around and he could envision few things more tedious than the organization of files, especially those of the non-digital variety, Tony settled down obediently. He would rarely admit it, but sometimes it helped to enjoy a little human company.

"Why do we need these again?" He asked, placing a stack of papers into the '64 pile. "Can't we just make a bonfire with all this and call it a day? I know that no one but you is ever going to look at this. And what are Industries files doing in my house anyway?"

Pepper shrugged; "No idea. I guess your father left them here, and you never know when a lawsuit from the sixties will come back to haunt you. Just in case."

Tony, who had endured more lawsuits than Carrie Bradshaw had shoes in her closet, was forced to concede the point. People tended to come up with all sorts of crazy suits just to try to take a whack at some of his fortune. Not that he really minded; although he wasn't sure exactly how much money he had, Pepper had once told him that he could comfortably build a small city out of hundred-dollar bills, burn it down, and still have enough to wallpaper his home with.

Standing up, she reached for another box; "One more and then it's time for my lunch break. And no paintball, sir," she added, anticipating a cheeky remark before he could venture it as she settled back down.

"Which reminds me. Fireworks?"

But Pepper wasn't quite listening to him anymore. She was more interested in pawing through the contents of her new box, which held far more fascinating things than files. "Is this yours?" She asked, holding up a vintage R2-D2 toy quite suddenly.

Tony took the robot from her, his eyes lighting up quite noticeably. "Artoo!" He crowed, turning the toy over in his hands; "I can't believe this is still here!"

"Must be worth a fortune if that's actually from the seventies," Pepper commented, smiling herself because she rarely ever saw her employer so genuinely delighted by something.

Tony gave her a look; "He's one of a kind, Pepper! I built him myself after I saw the movie, and he even moves around and, get this, _flies_. With the remote, of course, wherever that is." He grinned like a little boy expecting approval.

She laughed; "Of course he does, sir. You were a regular Anakin Skywalker -- without the whole turning evil and slaughtering the universe part," she added hastily at the look on his face. She would not have expected anything less from a toy crafted by a young Tony Stark, who was already building computers within the first decade of his life.

Pepper continued to rummage through the box, which was crammed full of relics of her employer's childhood projects. Her hand eventually brushed something soft and she looked at Tony inquisitively as she pulled out a ratty stuffed lion, who was rather tragically short of a leg and an ear. "Oh, he's cute," Pepper exclaimed, attempting to brush out the lion's fur, which was saturated with dust. "Somehow, though, I never exactly envisioned you as the fluffy stuffed animal type, sir."

"Hm?" He was still busy rummaging about for the robot's remote. "Oh, wow. That's _really_ old," was all he said when he looked up, his former delight losing some of its sparkle.

Pepper tossed him the animal, sneezing from the dust. "He looks well loved. Does he have a name?"

"Ed," he replied dismissively, rather forgetting for a moment that Pepper was in the room.

"Ed? That's an odd name for a lion."

Tony recalled himself a bit; "What, you were expecting something like Lionel? Please, Pepper, give me _some_ creative credit."

"Ed as in Edward is creative?"

"Ed as in _Edison_." There was a moment of silence and then; "What? Is that a giggle, Potts?"

"Oh, you would name your stuffed animals things like Edison, sir," Pepper laughed. "Don't get me wrong; I think it's cute. Nerdy, but cute."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Looks like he's seen quite a bit in his time," Pepper added. "You're probably going to tell me that you sewed him yourself?"

"Do I look like the cross-stitching type?" When she merely raised an eyebrow in reply to indicate that she would have loved to see that, he added; "It was right around the time I was working out my first engine and an experiment blew up in my face." He tapped his bearded chin lightly; "You can't see the scar now, but stitches right here. My mother gave him to me on the way home from the hospital hoping to distract me from the fact that someone had just sewn up my face after I blew it up."

He paused for a moment, remembering the way he had cried all the way to the hospital and the way his mother had held his head in her lap on the ride home afterwards in the town car, brushing his hair back gently from his forehead and reassuring him softly. He had clutched the lion to his chest as if it were his most prized possession, and fallen asleep in his mother's embrace.

He remembered waking up later to the sounds of his parents arguing hotly in hushed voices after they had put him to bed. He had gotten up and gone to his door, opening it a crack to listen, all the while clutching Ed tightly to his chest.

* * *

"_I'm so angry I have half a mind to make you sleep on the couch tonight. In the pool house. In the Marseilles pool house far away from here,"_ _Maria Stark hissed, brushing past her husband with additional pillows in hand for her sleeping son. "Where were you while he was taking his face off?"_

_Howard stood to the side wearily clutching a drink while he rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand; "Maria, you can't expect me to watch him every second of the day when I have a business to run. I – I thought that I could leave him down there and that he was more than capable of taking care of himself."_

"_He's just a child! Just because he builds circuit boards doesn't mean you can turn your back while he plays around with pyrotechnics."_

"_It wasn't pyrotechnics, Maria. Technically he was building - " He hesitated at the glare she was giving him. "Look - ."_

"_No, you look," she threw the pillows she was holding down on the couch and crossed her arms, shaking with a mixture of irritation, rage, and the utmost terror that only a mother can feel when her only child is in danger. "You treat him like some kind of wonder child publicity stunt!"_

_Howard groaned loudly and stepped away from her, clenching his fists; "You know that isn't true! How can you imply that I don't care about him?"_

"_Well you would do well to remember that he's just a child! All you do is push him and he's barely five years old! No, don't you dare pour yourself another drink and ignore me!"_

_Their voices rose, and Tony cringed away from the door. Why were they shouting at each other like that? It was making him far more scared than the explosion had; he had never heard his parents fight before. Not like this._

"_Maria, be reasonable. You know I was every bit as scared as you! Do you think I don't feel guilty? Or do I need to give him some stupid stuffed animal to prove that I care? He's too old for that sort of thing!"_

"_Oh _shut up!_" Maria Stark started pacing and took a deep calming breath; "That's just it right there – you can't keep treating him like an adult, Howard, no matter how brilliant he is."_

"_So you want to stunt his growth?"_

_She rubbed her forehead in frustration, "Can't you just let him be a child? Can't you stop pushing, just for a little while? He's lonely enough as it is, and it's probably not going to get any easier for him when he does grow up. So can you just stop for a moment and think about what's best for him? Inventing may make him happy, but it's not always going to be enough. It _never _will be."_

"_Maria, you just don't understand him. He doesn't need the company of other insipid five-year olds."_

"_You can't be his only friend forever, Howard. You and I will be gone one day and who will he have then? His toy robots? He'll be all alone and it'll be our fault because we made him grow up too fast."_

_Howard Stark was silent for a moment, before going over to a table and pouring himself another glass of whiskey._

"_What did I tell you about the drink?"_

_But he ignored her; "The important thing is that he's alive and all right. Oh – Maria, please don't cry."_

_Tony had never seen his mother cry and it made him more frightened than anything else ever had. Wasn't she supposed to be the strong one? She was the one who held him whenever he cried – had held him all night while he was getting stitches, and now who was going to hold her? He saw his father go over to her and sit her down gently on the couch. She cried quietly into her husband's shoulder as he rocked her back and forth, but she didn't stop._

"_Really, it'll be okay. We'll figure something out."_

_Maria eventually pushed him away. "It's going to be harder than that, Howard."_

"_I know, my dear."_

_She gave him a long look before finally nodding and running a hand through her mussed hair. "Look, I'll be all right. You should go and finish prepping for that board meeting tomorrow morning."_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Yes, go on. Good night. Oh – and you don't have to sleep on the couch tonight. Or in Marseilles."_

_Howard laughed quietly before kissing his wife good night and leaving. She stayed on the couch for a while longer, rubbing her neck without saying anything. Tony could still see the tear tracks on her face and felt another pang of fear. Deciding that he would risk his mother's anger for being out of bed as her need was greater than his, he pushed open the door after a couple more minutes and slowly padded into the room, all the while clutching the stuffed lion._

_Maria looked up, startled, "Honey, did we wake you?"_

_Instead of answering, he put the lion into her lap before jumping up onto the couch so that he could hug her tightly. "I named him," he declared brightly at the same time as he clung to her as if he would never let go. She still trembled a little and her arm was cold when she put it around him. "I'm sorry I scared you," he added in a whisper._

_He felt her kiss his forehead soothingly. "It's all right, dearest. What did you name him?"_

"_Ed."_

"_Ed as in Edward? That's an interesting choice for a lion."_

"_No, mom, Ed as in _Edison_. Thomas Edison."_

_At that, Maria laughed fully. "That's a good name for him. He looks like an Edison." After a moment of silence, she added; "Come on, love. Let's get you back to bed."_

_But Tony pressed his cheek into her side and shook his head, holding on to her ever more desperately. Maria understood and stroked his hair gently until he fell asleep there, before she carried him and Edison back to bed._

* * *

"Sir?"

"Oh. What did you say, Pepper?"

"You spaced out, sir."

Tony abruptly decided that he had been nostalgic enough for one day, and he was _never_ nostalgic so this was really quite unacceptable. He stood up and handed the old animal back to Pepper. She accepted it into her lap and attempted to straighten its twisted whiskers a bit; "I asked what you wanted me to do with all of this, sir?"

Tony shrugged; "Toss it, I suppose. What do I need these old things for?"

She looked up at him then with the same look she had given him when he told her to incinerate the old arc reactor. "Are you sure?"

"Pepper, I'm how old? What use could I possibly have for any of it? I have to go and…build things now," he added lamely, disappearing through the door and hoping that his face hadn't betrayed how uncomfortable he had suddenly felt.

When he was once again alone in the workroom, Tony decided that his mother had been wrong. His robots _were_ enough; how could they not be when he had Jarvis to banter with and those damned butterfingered bots to keep him amused? How could he possibly get lonely? And then there were Rhodey and Pepper and Happy, but he was never quite at ease with any of them. Not like he was here.

He hated thinking about his parents and could not help but resent Pepper a bit for unearthing that box, although it certainly had not been her fault. Why did he have to relive those memories, happy as some of them were? They did nothing more than irritate him.

All they did was serve to remind him that he no longer had someone who would put their arms around him when he needed comfort. He had no mother to hold him when he cried, but it didn't matter anymore and hadn't mattered for a long time now because Tony Stark never cried and Tony Stark would never admit that he needed anyone because he didn't.

Maybe one day he would finally realize how wrong he was.

* * *

Pepper tiptoed into the workroom, wincing at just how cold the floor was on her bare feet. She held Ed gingerly in one hand as she carefully stepped over the sharp bits of metal scattered on the ground, giving the mess a disapproving glare and vowing to organize this in the morning before someone, namely her, lost a toe.

After lunch she had recovered the lion's missing leg and ear and driven out to the same place that had salvaged her pantsuit from Tony's paintball gun and asked them if anything could be done about Edison. Although he still looked a bit his age, at least he was now clean and in possession of a full set of limbs and ears.

As was usual at this hour, her employer was sprawled on his back on the couch at the other end of the room, fast asleep. One arm was thrown casually off the side of the couch with another resting behind his head as he slept. Pepper smiled fondly and bit her lip as she leaned over him, trying not to make the slightest noise.

Tony shifted in his sleep and she froze, but he didn't open his eyes. After a moment she reached out and softly placed the old toy by his side, hoping that her movement wouldn't disturb him. As she began to move away, he sighed rather loudly, but all he did was roll on to his side and pull the animal into his chest before settling without waking up.

Pepper grinned and dimmed the lights.

When she brought him his espresso the next morning, he barely glanced up at her from where he was mulling over a digital model he was working on with Jarvis. "Thank you, Miss Potts," was all he offered quietly, settling the cup back onto its saucer and giving her no indication that he was talking about anything other than the coffee.

But as Pepper ascended the stairs, she caught a glimpse of Edison sitting on a shelf with the old arc reactor statuette glowing between his paws. And although he wasn't looking at her, Tony had an uncharacteristic smile playing lightly at the corners of his mouth.

Pepper knew it wasn't just the coffee.


End file.
